Titanium Lullaby
by A Memory Of Wings
Summary: Dorothy sings a haunting tune the stirrs memories in Roger that just manage to elude him. A mysterious woman offers him a job of retrieving her 'Key' from the infamous Alex Rosewater. But is there more to it then that? [Better summary inside.]
1. Author's Note

**Author's Note**: This takes place after the last episode of Big O. As you know, if you saw the last episode anyway, everything was erased and started all over from the beginning with, if you looked closely, one or two differences. So apparently they're going to do everything all over again with a couple of differences. This is my account of what happens the second time around.

---**Summary**: _Roger Smith_: He's Dorothy Wayneright for a few days and yet she instills protective feelings in him as well as the sense of deja vou. _The Negotiator_: He receives a job from a woman who goes by the name of Elizabeth Adams...and calls herself a fallen angel. A job to retrieve her key from the infamous Alex Rosewater. _The Man_: Haunted by a strange song Dorothy sings and weighted by the cryptic symbols and twisted messages he runs into during the hunt for this Key, will the ultimate success of his mission result in shattering the lock on his memories? And will he discover what the true worth of romance is?

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Enjoy


	2. Act 1: The Negotiator?

**Titanium Lullaby - Chapter 1**

Roger studied Dorothy out of the corner of his eye. Fading sunlight filtered in through the car windows, throwing golden highlights into the otherwise, deep mahogany of her hair. Fiery light laced her profile, running along the outline of her face and illuminating it. He'd always noticed that something strange about her.

She wasn't a remarkably stunning individual and had no real allure or seductive appeal. But her unshakable countenance was reassuring somehow and she instilled a longing. Not desire but something more in tune...to a man in a snowstorm looking towards a window through which was a fire lit room. And this feeling she instilled was translated by his eye into beauty.

She turned, feeling his gaze most likely, and lifted an eyebrow giving him her look that was somehow curious and emotionless at the same time. "What are you staring at Roger Smith?" she said, her tone mildly provoking as if she knew he'd been staring at her,

Yea. She was beautiful. Except when she opened her mouth. "You know, you'd be a lot more attractive if you kept your mouth closed." He said without thinking.

"Do you find me attractive Roger Smith?" Ignoring the choked sound he made. "I am flattered."

"I didn't mean that! I just meant...." He broke off. He had no idea what he meant.

"So you do not find me attractive?"

"No! I mean.... Wait!"

"Roger Smith. You-"

"I know, I know." He flashed that boyish grin of his, even though he knew it didn't work on Dorothy. "I'm a louse."

"Yes. But I was going to say that you missed the turn."

The tires squealed as Roger growled lightly and flipped a U-turn, sliding onto the opposite side of the street to go back. If Dorothy ever laughed he knew she would have been doing so now. As it was she simple gave him a guile-less look when he gave her a mild glare. He huffed and ran a hand through her hair. Boy was she a distraction.

"What's the name of the client again?" He questioned.

"Elizabeth Adams. Age: 52." Dorothy replied easily.

"Elizabeth huh?" Roger smirked. "An elegant older lady. Alright then." He turned the key backwards then slipped it free of the ignition as they pulled to a stop infront of a pair of silver gates, that came together like wings from either side of a long white stonewall that circled a large estate house. Roger walked forward and laid a hand against the gate and they swung inward. "Shall we go up then?" he asked gesturing gallantly for Dorothy to go ahead of him.

She cast him a look then walk past onto the stone walk way. The path spiraled it's way up through a yard of flawless emerald broken here and there by rose bushes, hacked and shackled with tiny white fences to keep it neat and inline, growing straight upwards instead of stretching beyond it's decided limits. No sign of weeds of wild growing flowers, all rebel plants probably hacked away viciously, the only shrubbery allowed to flourish there being those implanted by the land's owner.

From the yard the path curved in a hedge maze, thick green bushes rising up around them, also neatly clipped and trimmed, perfect flat walls so it almost looked like wall papered wood instead of actual bush.

"Apparently our Ms. Adams has a taste for the neat yet eccentric." Roger commented, as her walked behind Dorothy's slow, easy pace.

"What is the point of having maze if there is a path leading to the way out?" Dorothy questioned with that tone of careless curiosity.

Roger smirked a bit. "It would be a bit bothersome if visitors got lost on the way to the door wouldn't it?"

"True." Dorothy conceded and fell silent again.

The maze took a turn and the estate house itself rose before them, composed of sand-peach bricks and a blond wood roof that scrapped against the sky. The last rays of sunlight flashed of polished glass windows that through sports of color over the stone porch below where Roger and Dorothy stood facing a bright red pained door. A heavy brass knocker hung there, a serpent's head clutching a ring.

Dorothy lifted a hand to raise the heavy ring then let it wall again where it clattered against the brass plate beneath it, sending the chime of metal on metal as well as the hallow thumping of wood, echoing around them. There was a shuffling from inside the house and then the door was tugged open slowly.

A young woman stood in the doorway and studied them, then her lips tipped into a light smile as her eyes slide over Roger. "Let me guess." She drawled with amusement. "Roger Smith. The negotiator."

"Yes, um." Roger cleared his throat. "Is your mother here?"

The woman smiled. "My mother's been dead for years Mr. Smith." She offered a hand "Elizabeth Adams."

"You're Miss Adams?" Roger said, taking her hand more out of ingrained manners then anything else. Her frowned. "I thought your file said you were 52." Throwing Dorothy a look, but she wasn't paying attention to him or even to Ms. Adams. She was staring past them both into the house.

"52? Oh my mistake. I meant to put 25. How silly of me." She smiled and stepped back. "Please come in Mr. Negotiator."

Roger fiddled with his tie arrogantly. "Just Roger will do." He glanced back when Dorothy didn't move. From the way she'd been studying the room beyond the door he'd thought she'd be first to accept the invitation to enter. "Are you coming Dorothy?"

She shook her head. "I will remain here Roger Smith."

He gave her a look then shrugged, he'd become accustomed to Dorothy's strange ways. "Alright then. Suit yourself." Then walked in.

The door clicked shut quietly behind him, leaving Dorothy out on the porch alone. She studied the red woodwork a moment then turned and disappeared back into the maze.


	3. Act 2: Fallen Angel?

**Titanium Lullaby- Chapter 2**

Roger studied the interior of the house as he stepped inside, eyes falling on the twisted Picasso that hung on the wall before him, next to a mirror with a silver frame. The entrance broke into 3 parts, a wide staircase with a polished black banister, a hall that curved around the staircase and disappeared into shadows, and a wide entrance with sliding, dark oak doors. Roger stepped up to the mirror and lifted a hand only to see an image of distorted fingers and facial features. A fun house mirror?

"This way Mr. Smith." Elizabeth Adams voice carried to him from inside the room behind the oak doors. He turned and stepped inside it, a study done in leather tones of brown and roan. Gold flames blazed in a marble fireplace casting a golden glow over the room, and illuminating Elizabeth Adam's pale blonde hair. She smiled. "Please have a seat."

"No thank you." Moving across the rug to simply stand beside the chair she had gestured to, slipping hands into his pockets. "Your man of affairs was very vague on the phone Miss Adams."

"Please." She said, lips curling up in a wicked smile. "Call me Angel."

Roger smirked slightly with amusement, a dark eyebrow lifting in an amused expression. "Angel?"

She simply smiled. "Well I've heard you've been on a stand still with clients lately. I plan to pay very well and who else brings such blessings but Angels."

"Well that would depend on the assignment wouldn't it. As I said, your man was very vague."

"You have to excuse Timothy for that." She replied. "It was my fault actually. I told him very little." She rose and walked over the huge mahogany desk and tugged a drawer open. "You see this is a very quiet job I want done. If anything got out about this it would ruin everything." She lifted her hand to show him a small, golden heart shaped locked. She held it by the chain and the thing swung slowly throwing flashes of golden light across the walls.

"A...a locket?"

"Yes. This is what you will be negotiating with. It is a trade. This locked.... for The Key."

Roger frowned. "The.... the key?"

Angel nodded. "It's very important Mr. Smith. I have little faith in Alex Rosewater however, which is why I hired you. It is said, after all that you are the best."

"Alex Rosewater..." Roger knew the man. Everyone did. But why did the idea of negotiating with him strike a strange chord? He shook his head. "Very well. I'll take the job." He extended a hand and she released her grip on the locket and it dropped into his palm, curling up there like a golden serpent.

"Well then, if that's all." She walked from the room and towards the door, opening it and watched as he followed her "The exchange is set for 5:00 tomorrow afternoon. Don't be late..." she smiled. "Mr. Negotiator." Then shut the door quietly.

* * *

"You accept the job." Dorothy said from where she sad beside him in the care once more, her hands in her lap as she stared straight ahead as always.

"Yea." Roger smirked. "A job from an angel."

"Satan." Roger turned his head to look at her askance and she went on speaking. "Your books say Satan was an angel."

He laughed. "So you're calling our Ms. Adams the devil then?"

"Not the devil. Satan." She said, her voice laced with that patient tone she acquired when she thought he was being particularly thick.

"They're the same thing Dorothy."

"Not quite." He waited for her to say more but it didn't seem she was going to explain this time. He sighed. This was Dorothy. Strange Dorothy.

"What were you doing while I was inside the house." He questioned. He'd cleared the maze after leaving Miss Adams to find Dorothy waiting next to the car.

"I was in the maze."

"The maze?" He questioned curiously glancing over at her profile. "Why?"

"I was exploring. You do it quite often Roger Smith. But you call it investigating."

He grinned. "I really should teach you to put a spin on words shouldn't I Dorothy?"

"Lie you mean?"

"Perhaps not lying. It's a kind of deceit though isn't it?" She said tonelessly but Roger could tell she was heading up to something. Her gaze was intense on the road, not the simple light look she usually had.

"Maybe in a way. Why?"

"That woman was being very deceiving."

Roger eyes her questioningly. "How do you know? You weren't even there in the room."

"The mistake with her age was not a mistake. I'm afraid I don't know why though Roger Smith."

Roger smiled and shrugged a shoulder. "It's just human way I suppose. To deceive."

"Should I deceive as well then?"

He paused before answering. "You know Dorothy...I don't think deceit is really your thing."

She finally turned her head to look at him. "Then what is my thing, Roger Smith?"

"That.... we just don't know yet."

And this time Roger didn't seem to notice the way Dorothy studied him. Or the way her lips moved in a silent word that seem to surprise even her because she closed her mouth into a quiet line and turned her gaze to resume watching the white lines disappear beneath he car as they headed home.


End file.
